I was browsing through some old files, just cleaning up my computer a bit, when I came across a story my oldest son, Nathan, wrote for a school assignment in high school. The story was based on a true experience, or better said, ordeal, Nate passed through on a horse pack trip with his grandpa and me in the Weminuche Wilderness Area in southern Colorado in 2001, I think it was.<\/p>\n
No, no horses were shot, but I have to admit there were thoughts about it. I’ll have to tell the true story on another post. It was quite the trip.<\/p>\n
By the way, Nate’s a doctor now.<\/p>\n
Enjoy.<\/p>\n
Student # 8
\nEng. 111
\n21 October 2002
\nA Real Cowboy<\/p>\n
Cowboys have been much publicized characters throughout American history.\u00a0 Generally, they are portrayed as rough, tough, down-and-dirty guys on the silver screen.\u00a0 Usually they\u2019re ill-mannered yet still chivalrous, slow of wit albeit quick to the revolver, and always scrambling onto their horse once more than it has thrown them off.\u00a0 John Wayne is the perfect example.\u00a0 Cowboys are rugged, worn-down, ready for a fight, and anything that comes their way can be handled by either their fist or their pistol.<\/p>\n
My grandpa is a cowboy.\u00a0 His father was killed when he was young, so he grew up as the man of the house.\u00a0 He\u2019s farmed, he\u2019s roped, he\u2019s rode, he\u2019s hunted… he\u2019s done it all.\u00a0 If there ever was a real cowboy, it\u2019d be him.\u00a0 He grew up teaching manners to rank, unbroken horses, and the smile never left his face.\u00a0 I\u2019ve heard stories of him going out on the town looking for fist-fights just to pass the time.\u00a0 Grandpa is tough.<\/p>\n
Dad is a cowboy.\u00a0 As a career, he\u2019s FBI.\u00a0 Given a choice though, he\u2019d be baling hay in an instant.\u00a0 Growing up, he did the work on my grandpa\u2019s farm.\u00a0 He loved every minute of it.\u00a0 He has a special whistle he does that is like the call of mother nature herself… he can call horses, dogs, cats, and even children with this whistle.\u00a0 Familiar or not, they all come running.\u00a0 He\u2019s been camping alone outdoors more times than I\u2019ll ever sleep outside at all.\u00a0 He owns three horses and rides them every chance he gets.\u00a0 I\u2019d bet that if he woke up in the wilderness one day with nothing but a Swiss army knife and five hundred miles to civilization, he would make it back\u00a0 without mishap.\u00a0 If someone gave him a horse as well, he\u2019d probably choose to never return!\u00a0 And talk about being a tough-guy… just last year he fought two guys at once because of a traffic violation.\u00a0 Every day he\u2019s got a new smashed thumb, twisted ankle, or half-severed finger, and he never once complains.\u00a0 Dad is tough.<\/p>\n
Now me, I\u2019m on the opposite end of the spectrum with this whole cowboy deal.\u00a0 I\u2019d much rather discuss than \u201cduke it out.\u201d\u00a0 I enjoy firearms, but my idea of a shoot-out is watching \u201cThe Matrix\u201d on DVD, and I\u2019d take a fully-automatic H&K MP-5 submachine-gun over any revolver or bolt action rifle.\u00a0 Camping is a lot of fun and all, but the best part is always coming home and showering to get rid of that putrid smell.\u00a0 Hay makes me itch and alfalfa gives me asthma attacks.\u00a0 But the worst part of the whole ordeal is the horses.\u00a0 Horses are big, dumb animals that make good glue.\u00a0 Sure, they\u2019re faster than walking and are more versatile than a covered wagon, but they can never compare to my Jeep that will do 60 miles per hour and carry a hundred times the equipment.<\/p>\n
I suppose the true reason for my extremist opinion is that I\u2019ve been bit, stepped on, kicked, clothes-lined off, and bucked off of horses.\u00a0 In fact, the last time I\u2019d been around a horse, I had mounted up to ride while my dad led the horse around with a lead rope, so\u00a0 he could \u201ckeep control.\u201d\u00a0 As fate would have it, the horse soon tried to run off with me, slipped in a puddle of mud, and fell on its left side.\u00a0 All four hoofs were\u00a0 still in the air, and my left foot was under the horse\u2019s left side.\u00a0 (My dad of course bought the horse the next day).\u00a0 I, on the other hand, had six weeks to relive the encounter while five decimated bones healed.\u00a0 The darn things just don\u2019t seem to like me a bit.\u00a0 This is why I was so surprised with my dad\u2019s question.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, son… your grandpa and I were thinking it might be neat for the three of us to go on a horse trip up in Colorado.\u00a0 It\u2019d be kinda a three generation thing…\u201d\u00a0 I couldn\u2019t believe that my dad would have the nerve, the gall, the audacity to ask such a ridiculous question!\u00a0 Do I want to go on a horse trip?\u00a0 Of course I don\u2019t!\u00a0 What a terrible idea!\u00a0 Is he trying to get me killed?\u00a0 I\u2019d rather go skydiving without a parachute!<\/p>\n
\u201c…and we\u2019ll arrive at Emerald Lake.\u00a0 I\u2019ve heard it has great fishing.\u201d<\/p>\n
There it was.\u00a0 There was the catch.\u00a0 My father, being the cunning man he is, had introduced a new element into the equation.\u00a0 One he knew I couldn\u2019t resist.\u00a0 Fly-fishing was the greatest thing in the world to me.\u00a0 I loved it, and my dad knew it.\u00a0 That\u2019s how I came to agree to go on the stupid horse trip at all.\u00a0 At the time, I knew it\u2019d all be worth it once I reeled in my first rainbow trout of the day.<\/p>\n
So there I was, sitting on a nice, small, 25 five year old horse (which I suppose is ancient in horse years) with no mischief to give me.\u00a0 My father had saddled my horse, named Ronie, up for me and was now saddling his up, the intimidating foot-breaker of my past.\u00a0 His name was Max.\u00a0 My grandfather was on Royal, a bad-tempered, ornery steed.\u00a0 After getting suited up and used to my new elevation atop the animal, we embarked on our journey and left behind the world of comfort I was used to.<\/p>\n
Sure enough, not 100 yards from mounting the horses, Royal started to give Grandpa a bit of trouble.\u00a0 The horse froze up, twirled in a circle a few times, then fell toward a barbed wire fence, taking my grandpa down with him.\u00a0 Somehow, my grandpa rolled away before being pummeled by the thrashing feet of the crazed horse.\u00a0 My dad then decides to be a hero, so he \u201ctackles\u201d the horse to prevent it from becoming further entangled in barbed wire.\u00a0 The killer horse proceeded to pound my dad\u2019s head into a rock in all of the commotion.\u00a0 Eventually, everything got settled down.\u00a0 As usual, Dad was optimistic about the rest of the trip.\u00a0 Grandpa, however, was mumbling something like, \u201cThat\u2019s one.\u201d\u00a0 I didn\u2019t know what he meant, so I didn\u2019t concern myself with it.\u00a0 Within a few minutes, though, the horse and both my father and grandfather were up on their feet and ready to go.\u00a0 I was raring to go, too… to go home, that is.\u00a0 Alas, we pushed onward.\u00a0 Then came the rain.\u00a0 The huge drops weren\u2019t much of a problem as we rode, the rain slickers took care of it rather well.\u00a0 However, when it got too dark to ride, it did present a problem.\u00a0 Everything was wet, so a fire was out of the question.\u00a0 All in all, we ended up spending the night underneath a tree (to block the rain) in a sleeping bag surrounded by two tarps.\u00a0 For dinner I ate cold beans, straight from the can, (and they were absolutely the best beans I\u2019ve ever eaten.)<\/p>\n
Arising the next day, sore and hungry, we set out to make good time.\u00a0 The first obstacle we faced was a steep hill we had to climb to get out of the camping spot.\u00a0 It was about 15 yards long and seemed almost straight up.\u00a0 Strangely, to this day I still don\u2019t recall going down that hill the previous night.\u00a0 Regardless, I went up first and made it just fine.\u00a0 I had the good old horse.\u00a0 Following close behind me was my dad, who did fine as well.\u00a0 Bringing up the rear was poor old Grandpa.\u00a0 The tough old guy didn\u2019t even see it coming… three quarters of the way up the hill, the horse went straight over backwards on top of him.\u00a0 Seeing his father apparently crushed, my dad leapt from his saddle and flew to my grandpa\u2019s aid.\u00a0 Miraculously, Grandpa had landed immediately on the downhill side of a log, and the horse rolled over the log and left him merely shaken and bruised from the fall.\u00a0 Then came the arduous task of getting Royal to come up the hill at all.\u00a0 Grandpa pulled and tugged at the lead rope (from terra firma this time) until stubborn Royal finally crested the hill… and practically jumped on top of him.\u00a0 I watched in horror as my grandpa, on hands and knees, dodged the pounding hoofs from above like a bad spoof from The Matrix.\u00a0 With a mighty shove, my dad moved the stupid animal and I\u2019m sure saved my grandpa\u2019s skull.\u00a0 Under his breath, I heard, \u201cThat\u2019s two…\u201d from Grandpa.<\/p>\n
When the commotion had subsided, I again presented my idea to return from whence we came.\u00a0 Again, my proposition was shot down by a grandfather who persisted that \u201cthe show must go on.\u201d\u00a0 I was then beginning to suspect a conspiracy between my father and grandfather… for some reason, I felt that they were pushing to stay just a little too hard to be for their own sakes; there could be no other reason, I could find, though… anyway, on with the story.<\/p>\n
We once again headed up the trail, this time with Dad walking, leading royal by the halter, and Grandpa riding Max.\u00a0 We had only a little longer.\u00a0 We were almost to the lake…\u00a0 I could taste the trout already.<\/p>\n
Then came the switchbacks.\u00a0 The two foot wide switchbacks made possible a nearly vertical ascent by crossing a steep hillside horizontally, several times, at a low grade angle.\u00a0 I was absolutely positive that my horse would *snap* anytime and slip, tumbling off the edge and breaking me in half.\u00a0 I just knew it… I even had my foot halfway out of the stirrups at times… but the fall never happened.\u00a0 The horse never even twitched.\u00a0 My horse was steady as a rock, and as long as the \u201crock\u201d didn\u2019t become a rolling stone, I was fine with it.<\/p>\n
Then, we crested the ominous mountain, and there sat our destination, our goal… Emerald Lake.<\/p>\n
That evening, after finding a place to camp, we decided to ride down to the waterfront and check out the view while we used our pump to purify some water.\u00a0 Grandpa decided to take his chances with Royal one more time.\u00a0 We were all fine until we arrived at the waterfront, when Royal decided to act up again.\u00a0 This time, Grandpa wasn\u2019t going to wait around to see what happens.\u00a0 As soon as Royal started to fall, Grandpa leapt from Royal\u2019s back in a stupendously acrobatic maneuver (for a 65 year old) and gracefully landed flat on his back, on a rock.\u00a0 Ouch!<\/p>\n
Grandpa got back up as quickly as he could, but it took him a minute.\u00a0 He didn\u2019t complain a bit.\u00a0 Instead, he took a .38 Special revolver from his saddle-pack, put it to the horse\u2019s head, and told it \u201cThat was three.\u201d\u00a0 Then, he pulled the trigger.<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t believe it!\u00a0 I sat aghast for a moment, then I awkwardly dismounted as quickly as I<\/p>\n
could.\u00a0 I screamed, \u201cGrandpa, I can\u2019t believe you!\u00a0 How could you?\u00a0 The poor animal… I know I don\u2019t like horses, but…\u201d<\/p>\n
Then my Grandpa gave me a look that I have never forgotten and said, \u201cNate, that\u2019s one.\u201d<\/p>\n
Grandpa rode my horse for the trip back, and I walked.\u00a0 Nevertheless, I didn\u2019t complain once.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I was browsing through some old files, just cleaning up my computer a bit, when I came across a story my oldest son, Nathan, wrote for a school assignment in high school. The story was based on a true experience, or better said, ordeal, Nate passed through on a horse pack trip with his grandpa … Continue reading A Real Cowboy<\/span> ![\"The](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/westerntrailrider.com\/wordpress\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/01\/DSCN0461.jpg?ssl=1\")
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